This man scammed over $200 million and was caught, proven guilty, yet never spent a single day in prison. His story has become one of the most infamous scams in African history.
Our journey takes us back to Ghana, in the 1940s.
Meet John Ackah Blay-Miezah. He was born in the western region of Ghana in a quiet Nzema village. His beginnings were humble: no riches, no influential family, no political connections. But John had one burning goal—to get rich, no matter what it took.
By the 1970s, he had devised a plan so audacious it would trick governments, diplomats, lawyers, and even foreign investors. His scheme was built on a single outrageous claim: that Ghana's first president, Kwame Nkrumah, had created a secret trust fund during his time in office. According to Blay-Miezah, this fund—called the Oman Ghana Trust Fund—was worth over $27 billion and hidden across European banks.
The story sounded impossible, but John knew how to sell it. He told investors that he was the sole trustee named by Nkrumah himself, the only man who could access the billions. There was just one catch: he needed money to pay for legal fees, diplomatic clearances, and banking costs. In return, investors would receive not only their money back but triple returns once the billions were unlocked.
It was the ultimate get-rich-quick pitch. And somehow, it worked.
Over time, Blay-Miezah convinced over 300 people to believe his story. From powerful elites in Accra to wealthy businessmen in Philadelphia, his scam spread across continents. Even lawyers, politicians, and diplomats were taken in. Some investors handed him millions in cash, dazzled by the thought of unimaginable payouts.
And John knew how to spend their money. He flew on private jets, bought luxury mansions in Ghana, Europe, and the United States, and hosted lavish dinner parties attended by influential figures. To protect himself, he secured diplomatic passports that gave him immunity in certain jurisdictions. For years, he lived a high life, rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful while his victims patiently waited for their promised fortune.
By the late 1970s, questions began to surface. Investors wanted results. "Where is the money? When will the billions be released?" John had no answers. Instead, he disappeared—fleeing Ghana and resurfacing in London, where he continued his luxurious lifestyle.
If the story wasn't outrageous enough, it took another wild turn. In 1984, Blay-Miezah boldly returned to Ghana to contest for the presidency. He promised to use his supposed billions to rescue Ghana's struggling economy. While he didn't win, the move earned him temporary protection. Some supporters even hailed him as a visionary who could have transformed the nation with his mysterious wealth.
But scams, no matter how clever, eventually crumble. By 1991, Blay-Miezah's empire of lies finally caught up with him. He was arrested briefly in Ghana for fraud-related offenses. Yet, fate played a surprising twist. Shortly after his arrest, he reportedly died from natural causes.
This meant there was no trial, no sentence, and no closure for his countless victims. The vast sums of money he collected—estimated between $200 million and $250 million—vanished without a trace. To this day, no one knows where all of it went. Some suspect offshore accounts; others believe his close associates stashed it away.
Despite his crimes, Blay-Miezah's name lives on in Ghanaian history. Some call him a criminal mastermind, a fraudster who preyed on the greedy and gullible. Others, surprisingly, still see him as a folk legend, a man who outsmarted elites and governments alike.
The Oman Ghana Trust Fund scam is remembered not only for the sheer scale of money involved but also for the boldness of its execution. Blay-Miezah didn't just scam individuals—he scammed entire institutions and almost managed to rewrite history with his fabricated tale of Nkrumah's billions.
Why Did So Many Believe Him?
Part of Blay-Miezah's success lay in timing. Ghana in the 1970s and 80s was struggling economically. Many elites and investors were desperate for opportunities. The thought of billions locked away in secret accounts sounded improbable—but not impossible. After all, stories of dictators hiding fortunes abroad were already common.
Blay-Miezah also had charisma. He was described as eloquent, charming, and persuasive. He dressed the part of a wealthy businessman, moved in elite circles, and always seemed to know just enough about diplomacy and finance to appear credible.
Blay-Miezah's sudden death in 1991 left hundreds of investors empty-handed. Some had lost life savings, others millions. Lawsuits were filed in Ghana and abroad, but without the conman himself and with no clear records of the money, little could be recovered.
Today, his story stands alongside figures like Emmanuel Nwude of Nigeria as one of Africa's greatest fraudsters. Documentaries, articles, and books have been written about him, each asking the same question: was he a genius scammer, or simply a man who exploited people's greed?
In the end, John Ackah Blay-Miezah reportedly died a free man. To some Ghanaians, he is remembered as a crook who embarrassed the nation. To others, he remains a strange sort of legend—a man who lived like a billionaire, fooled the world, and escaped justice.
His story raises timeless questions about greed, power, and deception. Why were so many willing to hand over fortunes without proof? Was Blay-Miezah a criminal genius exploiting weakness, or was he simply a reflection of human desperation and blind trust? Perhaps the biggest question of all is this: if someone told you today about a hidden fortune waiting to be unlocked, would you be
lieve them?
What do you think about John Ackah Blay-Miezah's story—was he a criminal mastermind or just a man who exploited people's greed and desperation? His tale proves that not every glittering promise hides gold, and blind trust can cost more than money—it can cost dignity, peace of mind, and even nations' reputations. Stay cautious, question everything, and remember: if a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Stay tuned for the next chapter, where we'll uncover another unbelievable scam that shook Africa and left the world asking—how did they pull it off?